By C. L. Beck
“I’m really, really blocked,” I announced to no one in particular (meaning my husband, Russ) and everyone in general (meaning my dog, Corky).
“Maybe you should eat more fruit,” Russ replied. “Prunes ought to do it.”
“Woof,” barked Corky, seconding the opinion.
Apparently everyone in my household thinks they're a comedian. Despite that fact, the conversation started me thinking . . . no, not about prunes, but about being blocked. Does every career have its own form of ‘blockage’? Writers talk, and write, and talk some more about writer’s block, but maybe we’re just bigger whiners than the rest of the world.
The subject needed pondering.
Taking Russ’s advice, I grabbed an apple to prevent any other form of ‘blockage’ and started making a list.
Chimney sweeps must get a cinder block.
Lifeguards surely get a sun block.
General contractors definitely get building blocks.
Brick layers probably get patio blocks.
And oooo, you’re gonna love this one—world famous chef, Emeril Lagasse, must get a chopping block.
Does an urban planner get a city block?
If so, a woman who makes blankets must get a quilting block.
Then again, it seems like a quarterback would have the worst case of all—his would be block and tackle.
At Halloween, does a skeleton get a spinal block?
There’s no doubt that joggers get a stumbling block.
The manager at Sotheby’s must get an auction block.
And I think it’s safe to say prisoners at the State Pen get a cell block.
Last, but not least, let’s come back to Russ. He’s a therapist, and I’m positive he’s got a mental block.
The list made me feel much better, sort of like Liquid Plumber for the brain. Why did it help? Because it’s always nice to realize every career has its sticking point. Yes, I’m glad to know I’m not the only block head out there.